Hawaii Five0 Is Too Hot
by sparra-music
Summary: Plotless story that breaks 5th wall.  Not for anyone who doesn't want to admit H5-0 is just a show.  Exerpts: "Hi, my name is Sparra, and I have a problem." ... "Save a wave, ride a Five-0!  It might have to become our new motto."


I'm not claiming this. This was just one of the things I dreamed last night. Sadly, this piece of crack was the most coherent and usable. Possibly when my mind has recovered from the lust/smut/marysue-age overload, I will post another chapter in one of my other fics.

I poked my head through the door. "Is this Obsessed With TV Shows Anonymous?"

"Why, yes, it is! Welcome to OWTSA!"

_Perky. Oy vey. Sooooo not what I need right now. But she's grabbed my hands and is dragging me into the room, so I guess I'm stuck now._

"Are you here for yourself, or on behalf of a family member?"

Looking around, I can't help thinking, _I plead the fifth._ _But since I went and -rather stupidly, in hindsight- asked if this was the group by name, I might as well fess up._ "Myself."

"Please, come here. Introduce yourself. I promise you, none of us are here to judge."

Oh, I cannot believe I am doing this. "Hi, my name is Sparra, and I have a problem."

"Hi Sparra," the obliging crowd chorused back.

"I have this -little- problem. You see, I've gotten incredibly fixated on a certain TV show and its **incredibly** hot stars."

"Tell us something we don't know, sister!"

"Well, I was just fine with it for a while- it seemed to be fueling some pretty good fanfic. But then, last night, after the episode, they had this perfectly innocent tv commercial on. I wasn't even really watching- I couldn't even tell you what they were advertising, because I'd already gone back to my laptop- but when they said "Waves aren't the only thing you can ride in Hawaii", my mind when **straight** to the gutter. My mind did this little jump to the song "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy", and because I sometimes rewrite songs, the one that started playing in my head was "Save a wave, ride a Five-0". And of course, it was quickly followed by mental video of the team enjoying themselves at the beach, and then coming out of the water shirtless and dripping wet. And since it was my fantasy, I was immediately there to greet them. Of course, I never got past the first one, but that is **only** because the hotness factor of those three guys bare-chested and wearing soaking trunks that cling to their frames is enough to ratchet the hotness factor past the "surface of the sun" level. And **seriously**, if confronted with the chance to hug one of those guys, what woman with a pulse would be moving on?

"So of course the fantasy continues... going back to a beach towel, laying down and tracing tattoos and kissing wildly... Oh," I flushed a shade of magenta that would put crayola to shame, "you probably didn't want or need to hear all the sordid details. But suffice it to say, my mind was occupied for several hours with lustful thoughts."

"You got Steve? So then can I have Danny?" a redhead raised her hand and asked.

"Huh? What?"

"Well, you're playing in the screenwriter's sandbox, so why can't I play in yours?"

I blinked. "Well, it does seem fair."

"Hey, can I claim Chin?" asked another woman.

Yet another woman stood and crossed her arms over her chest. "I think all y'all need to move this down the hall. I'm pretty sure H-FITH's meeting starts in like ten minutes."

"H-FITH?" I asked one of the others as we took her suggestion and left the room.

"**H**awaii **F**ive-0 **I**s **T**oo **H**ot," explained the woman who'd claimed Chin. "They're gonna love you."

"Yeah," agreed the redhead, giggling like a teenager. "Save a wave, ride a Five-0! It might have to become our new motto."

"I'll second that." The black woman turned to me and asked, "So, have you got any other interesting fantasies to share?"

"Wait," said the redhead as she opened a door. "The others will want to hear this too." Turning to face the gathering crowd, she said, "Hey everybody, we got a hot one! This is Sparra, and has she got something to make you drool!"

"Wait, wait!" I protested. "This **really** is a **problem!** I **cannot** give my kindergarteners a worksheet and then sit down at my desk to fan myself while fantasizing about making out with a Navy SEAL on a regular basis! Twice today was more than enough! Well, okay, three times if you count the half hour they were gone for PE..."


End file.
